Nov 23, 2011

Giggling with the gobblers

I’m sure for those who work in the turkey business, the novelty has long worn off.

But for a reporter and camera crew of two who’ve never come across a gaggle of gobbling turkey toms (the name for the males), it’s simply hilarious.

Hilarious.

Open a door, or cough or startle them in some way – and a sea of purple and red heads jolts in a giant Mexican wave as they gobble, gobble, gobble - then stop.

Gobble, gobble, gobble - stop.

They’re frankly ridiculous with their long “snoods” hanging over their beaks, and wobbly red fleshy bits under their chins, puffing out their feathers and marching forward en masse.

The girls of the species are less flamboyant – but they bark like dogs.

Close your eyes and you’d swear you just walked into a puppy kennel.

That’s the slapstick stuff.

Then there’s the gallows humour.

Before the newly hatched poults (baby turkeys) are even a day old, they’re turned upside down, have the poo squeezed of them, as a “sexer” prods their miniscule genitals, to determine whether they are girl or boy.

Then to the machine they’re thrust into head first, dangling and flapping furiously while their squawking beaks are treated with a laser beam (the tips drop off in the coming days – so they don’t peck each other to death – turkeys are apparently distantly related to vultures).

Like kids at a fun park, the balls of yellow fluff are propelled down a chute into waiting crates, ready for the next ride.

This time, feet first, they whizz into a machine which snips off the tips of their toes – once again to stop them scratching each other to bits.

It’s slightly confronting stuff, and the animal welfare people are not terribly supportive of some of these practises. But it has to be said, the cute little fluffballs do mostly come out of all of this alive and chirping – with that blank look on their little turkey faces.

“I used to be a shearer,” says free range turkey farmer John Watson. “People say sheep are stupid, but they’re like Einstein compared to turkeys.”

A bit harsh.

But they are strange.

Curious, inquisitive, primitive. Strange.

Perhaps the strangest thing is they can’t quite do “it” anymore. The boys have been bred so big and breasty and full-of-thigh, that they’d shred their female partners. So the male of the species needs a (ahem, clear throat, and stifle giggle) helping hand.

They’re milked for their semen by highly qualified technicians (the camera crew had a more colloquial name for them, starting with “turkey” and ending with a word that rhymed with “banker”).

The tube of semen is then rushed into an adjoining shed where a bunch of teenage boys are busy rounding up the “hens” and inseminating them with the potent “milk”.

This is their before-school part-time job. Forget working at Macca’s; these lads earn up to 27 bucks an hour, sticking vials of semen up turkey bottoms.

They’re quick and professional – and I didn’t see one of them laughing – except all the way to the bank. Hilarious.

It took 5 days to travel through South Australia and Victoria to film the turkey story, which appears on our last program for 2011.

It all started because I wanted to get a handle on where our Christmas turkey comes from.I had no idea how entertaining it would all be.

When the cooked bird appears on the dining table on December 25, among the red napkins and sprigs of fake holly… it’ll probably just make me laugh.

Informative, hilarious, tactful - a brilliantly done story.
Our pet turkey is also entertaining - and I'd say a lot smarter than it's chook mates. It'd give snakes & stray cats a hard time too as it appears very assertive, carries on if it spots something strange, and not having been de-beaked, it's got a rather vicious peck. Turkey look around a lot too (including upwards, spotting circling hawks etc, which chooks never do). Probably would be handy guardians for someone who has egg-raiding animal or bird (crow) issues. Can't help noticing the chubby drumsticks when I pick our turkey up for a pat...Christmas Day springs to mind. But it's too much of a character to eat.